


Zombies!

by AnnaDruvez



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 05:45:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2013261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaDruvez/pseuds/AnnaDruvez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 4. Buffy and the gang have more than just an ancient spirit to deal with on Thanksgiving. The rest of the dead are hungry, too. M for blood and gore. Maybe a little language. No pairings. Inspired by TtH Challenge 2830.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zombies!

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [TtH Challenge 2830: Zombie Outbreak!](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/63483) by LordKhuzdul. 



>   
> **Disclaimer**
> 
> _I own... um... the word choice?_   
> 

# Zombies!

The zombie plague had arrived. The Sunnydale locals should have had plenty of notice before the outbreak had spread from the Los Angeles metro area, but they hadn't. The loss of Mayor Wilkins meant that ninety percent of city services (and all the local news stations) were being run by people chosen for their inability to cope and their skill at repressing. It shouldn't have been a shock that the hospitals – and half the surrounding area – had been devastated before anyone had officially noticed. As it was, the city offices had been overrun while the new mayor was still insisting to his (slightly) saner deputy that he had to calm his constituents.

The local news outlets called them picketers and rioters, depending on which of the two local stations you listened to.

Joyce would later reflect that she should have gotten cable so she had a less biased source.

But, we're getting ahead of ourselves...

Joyce Summers was the semi-proud hostess to a party at her home on Revello Drive. It was Thanksgiving and Buffy had been determined to feed everyone. Though she had begged, Joyce had overridden her objections and the meal was served at the Summer's home instead of at Giles'. Joyce was fine with Buffy wanting to make the meal, but she was going to be there to keep an eye on the progress.

Of course, when they brought along the bound Spike, the matron had put her foot down. He had never hurt her and, according to them, he couldn't with the chip in. She was not going to "have him tormented by being tied to a chair for no reason while being teased with food."

For this, Spike reiterated his frequent assertion that she was 'a real lady.'

They were just sitting down to eat when there was a banging on the door, followed by distant screams.

Joyce just suppressed a sigh as her daughter grabbed a sword out of the ever present stash of weaponry, and accepted Spike's commiserating pat on her shoulder.

Buffy headed for the front door, even as the spirit of the Hus decided now was a good time to enter through the living room window. She changed direction and was soon locked in fierce combat. That battle was soon over, the Native spirit banished with his own weapon, but more screams were echoing outside. The Slayer glanced at the others. "Did we have any other weirdness planned for this week?"

Xander shook his head. "Well, you know those rude party crashers."

Buffy smiled and opened the front door to a see a street almost filled with zombies. Her smile faded. "I think I need a bigger sword."

She rallied after a moment and leaped out, engaging the first corpse she saw. Giles followed. He was muttering under his breath about what could have called a second zombie uprising to Sunnydale in under a year. Xander, miraculously recovered from his mystically contracted diseases, grabbed a battle-axe and followed. A few odds and ends from the spice rack later, Willow joined them.

Spike stepped out onto the porch, painfully aware of the matriarch inching out behind him to watch the chaos.

"I. Can't. Believe. This. I. Keep. Saving. The. World. And. Idiots. Keep. Screwing. It. Up." Buffy's words were punctuated by the sounds of cracking bones, and the thumps of severed heads hitting the grass. "Why. Can't. It. Just. Stay. Saved?"

Xander, watching the fight as he slashed with his own weapon, snorted. "That'd be way too easy... It's like Dawn of the Dead out here. Or, one of my nightmares." He paused. "Hey, any kids in the hospital?"

Buffy paused for a second, wondering why the word 'Dawn' resonated, but shook it off in favor of staying alive. "I'm not feeling vampy, so I guess not."

None of them noticed Joyce vanishing back inside the house, inspired by Xander's comment and the memory of watching horror movies with her friends as a teen. None of them noticed her slip down into the basement and pull out her father's old pair of pump-action 12 gauges. They did notice when one of the zombies was getting ready to chow down on Buffy's arm. And, they especially noticed when his head did it's best impression of an overripe melon coming into contact with a Brenneke slug.

It was a good impression, seeing as that was basically what happened.

Even the zombies seemed to pause for a moment to stare at the enraged matron. She pumped the shotgun, ejecting the spent projectile. She slammed a key ring into Giles' chest. "Rupert, get the car started."

Giles nodded, jumping to obey. He was not stupid enough to argue when faced with an angry mother, much less one with a gun.

The battle was back on. The lawn was covered in slippery half-clotted blood and viscera. Xander was displaying his usual skill at setting the bad guys up for Buffy to finish off. Willow, inspired by both the desire to survive and the need to ensure her friends' safety, was muttering carefully as she fiddled with the herbs. Her hand lifted to point at an approaching group. "Incenderent!"*

Fire boiled out of the air, causing her overcharged spell to become a raging inferno.

Spike, on the porch, ducked back inside with a few swear words. He'd been able to feel the heat from there!

In the meantime, Giles came up triumphantly with the keys. As quickly and safely as they could, they piled into Joyce's station wagon. Joyce dumped a duffle bag into the back seat, and reloaded the shotgun she was holding. Xander, memories of the military man sifting into his brain, started poking through the bag. Shortly, he was holding the second shotgun and loading it.

A good thing, too, as Giles had to slow down to navigate through some wrecked vehicles on the road ahead. This allowed a few of the walking dead to get to the back of the wagon. They slammed fists into the rear window, shattering it in on the occupants. Without thinking, Xander lifted the shotgun and fired. The force of the blow sent the first zombie falling back.

Giles maneuvered his way through the debris left by panicking citizens, wondering how all of this could have happened in the two hours since they'd arrived at Joyce's. Xander kept picking off the zombies that were coming up on their tail. Joyce, reloaded and ready, rolled down her window. She ignored Buffy's objections to pull herself up to sit on the door itself, shooting zombies approaching on the driver's side.

Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any coming from the right. Yet.

Xander, forced to pause to reload, glanced at Spike. "So, this must be right up your alley."

The blond looked at him like he'd suggested eating roasted feces. "Are you out of your mind? Zombie blood isn't food. It's bloody poison!"

Xander blinked at the revolted master vampire, then shot a zombie that had gotten too close. "My mistake."

Buffy glanced at Willow. She'd been muttering under her breath for several minutes and now her eyes were glowing. She looked horrified. "What?"

"Oh my God, Buffy... This... I did a spell. To try to figure out the spell that did this..."

Giles, still mostly focused on his driving, decided to yell at her later for casting advanced magics. "And what do you see?"

"Yeah, Red," Spike chimed in. "How do we fix this?"

"It's... not magical."

Buffy swallowed. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it. With a voice more suited to a terrified three year old than the Slayer, she finally spoke. "Then... what is it?"

"I... I don't know."

The silence was deafening, even with the moans and cries of the risen dead echoing around them.

**Author's Note:**

> *Again, blame Google Translate. Incenderent: to set fire.
> 
> And, that's it. Just a one-shot. My brain was grabbed by the challenge as I sat here trying to find something to inspire my current works. This is a hot off the press, barely edited, bit of depressing... Well, you get the idea.
> 
> My other stories are NOT dead. Just... resting. They'll be shambling around soon.


End file.
